


Sometimes It Lasts In Love, But Sometimes It Hurts Instead

by lallyloo



Category: Eagle of the Ninth Series - Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lallyloo/pseuds/lallyloo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Esca hears his ex-boyfriend, Marcus Aquila, is getting married he decides to pay him one last visit.  He soon realizes it wasn't over for either of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes It Lasts In Love, But Sometimes It Hurts Instead

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to livejournal in January 2012.

“I heard Marcus Aquila is getting married.”

Leave it to Placidus. The smug fucker.

Esca is struck silent at the statement. He hadn't heard. No one had mentioned Marcus's name around him in some time, likely to protect him or some other irritating notion – as if he's a wilting flower who needs protection and can't bear to hear the name of his ex lest it send him spiraling into a deep, dark well of endless bitter tears.

And yet. Marcus is getting married. Fucking Christ.

Esca can't think of a proper retort for Placidus, he used to depend on Marcus for that, so he just glares and mutters, “good for him.”

“I'd say so, I hear she's a catch.”

Esca murmurs a sound of vague interest, and tries to focus on his book, wishing Placidus would just take his half-caf caramel macchiato with soy milk and organic honey –or whatever elaborate drink he was having today– and disappear.

“The wedding is on his Uncle's estate,” Placidus continues, unperturbed by Esca's disinterest, or perhaps spurred on because of it. “I imagine it's costing them a small fortune.”

“I can't see Marcus wanting something extravagant,” Esca mutters, hating himself for it the second it's out of his mouth.

“Well, people can change.” Placidus sounds smug when he says it, and Esca glances up to see if his face matches his smug expression – it does. “You know, a lot of people thought you two would end up together.”

Esca focuses his attention back on his book. “Yeah, well, don't know why people thought that.”

“You two were inseparable.”

Esca shrugs. “People grow apart.”

“Too true,” Placidus says, and Esca isn't entirely sure if Placidus buys his blasé attitude.

He and Marcus had only told a handful of friends about their relationship, and as Placidus had never been considered a friend, he hadn't been informed. Esca wanted to tell everyone, but Marcus was too afraid. In time, he'd always said, in time they're tell everyone. When the moment was right. But that moment never came. Word travels though, and gossip lingers, and there's a chance Placidus has some idea, which means he'd know about their breakup too. The notion stirs rage in Esca's gut. He stands, shoving his book in his back pocket and grabbing his half-empty cup.

“I should be going.”

Placidus steps aside as Esca passes. “See you at the wedding, assuming we're invited.”

“See you then.” Esca doesn't expect an invite, but he says it anyway.

*

Esca doesn't allow himself to think about Marcus until he's back home. He thinks of the wedding, the girl, Old Aquila's estate, but he doesn't think of Marcus until he's alone.

It's been a long while. Fifteen months, three weeks, and a handful of days. That's a lifetime when you're young. A lifetime when you're missing someone.

And he still misses Marcus.

Frustrating, stubborn Marcus, with his old-fashioned notions and that idea he got in his head, telling him he should marry a girl and have babies so he could carry on his father's name. A father he'd hardly known, and could barely remember, and Esca had been so furious with Marcus when he made his decision. When he decided to ruin what they had so he could live up to the imagined expectations of his dead father.

Esca remembered the last few days. The last time they made love, and Marcus had asked Esca to fuck him as slowly as possible, lying back on the bed, eyes half closed, begging Esca to go slower, _even slower_ , as if he was trying to remember every detail and burn it into his memory. As if he was trying to make it last.

Esca hadn't known then. He hadn't realized what it meant.

It wasn't until Marcus came to him, two days later, and told him it was over. It had to be over.

And Marcus had cried. Fucking _cried_.

And Esca had been furious, cursing a blue streak, arguing with Marcus, and trying to change his mind. Then leaving in a fury when Marcus shut down, closing himself off to Esca and everything they had. Everything Esca was trying to save.

Esca was furious for days. Weeks, even. So mad he couldn't see straight. And then the anger wore off and he was just left with an overwhelming sense of sadness and loss because Marcus was gone.

And then Esca cried. He hadn't cried since his mum died – when he was fourteen and scared and his mum was gone forever. But he cried then, when Marcus had really left him.

*

It takes him two days to finally throw some clothes in a backpack and leave. Before he goes, Esca digs through a drawer of papers, searching for the postcard he's sure is in there somewhere. The one Marcus sent a few months after he left, with a stupid sunset on the front, talking about the weather as if he was just on vacation somewhere. He'd included his new address at the bottom, and Esca had only skimmed it before he shoved it in the drawer and refused to look at it again.

He finds it finally, stuck between some receipts and a Chinese takeaway menu. When he plugs the address into his GPS he realizes it's relatively close to Old Aquila's estate. He's not at all surprised. Marcus always loved it up there.

A tiny voice in Esca's head tells him he should probably call first, but he doesn't have Marcus's number, and he's not going for a visit anyway. Esca just needs to see him. Just one last time.

*

He's two hours into the drive when he pulls over.

The diner is rundown, the leather seats cracked and peeling, and the jukebox in the corner long broken and dusted over. He'd been there with Marcus once, when they'd gone to see his uncle, and Marcus had laughed at the state of the place. But Esca liked it. He still does. The waitresses still wear little hats, and the lady who takes Esca's order looks like she's worked there since the place first opened. She winks at him and brings him an ice cream soda, _“on the house”_ , and Esca drinks half of it before pulling out his phone and sending a text to Cottia.

_[going to see Marcus]_

He figures she's not near her phone because he eats and pays and is heading back to his car by the time his phone rings.

Cottia sounds concerned, which Esca had been expecting. It's partly why he waited so long to text her, figuring a two hour head start might keep her from stopping him.

“Do you think it's a good idea?”

“Cottia, he's getting married.”

There's a long pause and when Cottia replies her voice sounds sad. “Oh babe, I know,” she sighs, confirming what had been in the back of Esca's mind for two days. “Lee and I got an invite.”

“When?”

“Esca..”

He leans against his car, toeing the gravel, determined that he won't let her hear him break. “When?”

“A month ago. Maybe a bit more.”

“You've known all that time and you didn't tell me?”

“We wanted to tell you, we did, but what good would it have done?”

“At least I would've heard it from you instead of from that arsehole Placidus.”

“Oh Esca, I'm sorry.”

“He didn't invite me.” Esca's sure she can hear the sadness in his voice. He hadn't really expected an invitation, but hearing it confirmed is like a blow to the gut.

“You know Marcus, he'd be worried. And you know he'd want you there, if things were..” she pauses, catching herself, “he'd want you there above anyone else, Esca, you know that.”

Esca climbs into his car and shoves the key in the ignition. “I have to go.”

“Where are you? I'll meet you.”

“I'm halfway there already.” Esca flicks on the radio. “I'll call you after.”

“You should think about this.”

“I've thought about it,” Esca sighs. “I need to see him.”

“Okay,” Cottia says reluctantly.

“I'll call you after.”

*

The sun is just beginning to set when Esca arrives. He parks his car on the street, and double-checks the house number five times before he summons the courage to walk to the front door and ring the bell.

Panic hits him then, and for a split second he wonders if he should have listened to Cottia, but then it's too late and the door is opening. A pretty blonde woman answers the door, and looks through the screen at Esca.

“Can I help you?” She seems wary but pleasant enough, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she's wiping her palms on her jeans.

“Is Marcus here?”

“He is,” she smiles at Esca, pushing the screen door open, and then turns her head and calls for Marcus.

“He's just fixing something in the basement, but he'll be right up.”

“Sure,” Esca nods, and he tries not to stare at her as he wonders if she's the one Marcus is marrying. She seems as if she belongs there, so she must be. Esca expected to dislike her, and he's trying hard to, but she's smiling at him and she seems just about to ask his name when the sound of footsteps on stairs echoes from somewhere in the house.

Esca's stomach does a flip. He shouldn't have come.

“What is it–” Marcus's voice cuts off as he rounds the corner and catches sight of Esca.

Marcus looks the same. His hair is a bit shorter, and his eyes look tired, but it's Marcus, and Esca's heart aches a little when their eyes meet and Marcus breathes out Esca's name.

“Esca?” the blonde girl says, turning back to him with a smile. “Why didn't you say so? I've heard so much about you!”

Esca stutters, “have you?”

“Marcus talks about you all the time,” she takes Esca's hand and gives it a soft shake, “it's so good to finally meet you, will you come in?”

“I dunno,” Esca says, glancing up at Marcus who is still looking at him in utter shock. “I just stopped by to– I just wanted to say hello.”

“You should come in and sit,” she points to Esca's jacket, encouraging him to take it off, “Marcus, take his coat.”

Marcus steps forward, staring at Esca like he can't quite believe he's there, and he extends his hand to take Esca's jacket.

“It's good to see you,” Marcus says when Esca hands it to him.

“You as well,” Esca says curtly. “I heard the news. Congratulations.”

“Oh,” Marcus pales. “Right. Thanks.”

He crowds Esca in the doorway, his hands holding tight to Esca's jacket, and the three of them stand awkwardly until Marcus seems to realize he should be making introductions. “Sorry, Esca, this is Victoria. Tor, this is Esca.”

She reaches to shake his hand again, and Esca nods at her. “Victoria, pleased to meet you.”

“Call me Tor,” she smiles, “and it's so great you're here! When Marcus said you wouldn't be able to make it to the wedding I was wondering if we'd _ever_ have a chance to meet.”

Esca takes a quick glance at Marcus, who suddenly appears unable to meet his eye. “Well, we've met now, at least.”

“We have, yes! Now come in, come in,” Victoria motions for Esca to follow her, and they move down the hallway with Marcus following silently behind. “Will you be staying long?”

“No, not at all.”

Esca glances around as they walk through the house. It looks very generic, as if they're living in a model home, and Esca searches for any sign that Marcus lives there. There are no photos on the mantel, Marcus's books aren't on the bookshelf, and his favorite blanket –the red one with the white edging– is missing from the couch. Esca knows why. He knows Marcus left it behind fifteen months ago, and it's now tucked away in the bottom drawer of Esca's dresser. He used to take it out sometimes and wrap himself in it, imagining he could still smell Marcus on it – when he realized he couldn't anymore, no matter how hard he imagined, he stopped.

“I just wanted to say best wishes, and then I'll be on my way.”

Victoria directs him to a chair and offers him a drink, and Esca stays just long enough to sip it and make polite conversation. They talk about Esca's job, and Cottia and Lee, and how Marcus's uncle is doing, and Marcus says very little –only interjecting once or twice– as if he still can't quite believe the conversation is happening.

 

“I should be going,” Esca says as he sets his empty cup on the coffee table.

He's been there for ten minutes, tops, and as much as he wanted to see Marcus, Esca realizes at that moment he'd rather be anywhere else. He smiles and nods at Victoria, and politely declines when she invites him to stay until morning to avoid a long drive home in the dark.

Marcus rises, looking anxious. “Let me walk you out.”

“No,” Esca says, a little too harshly, “I can manage. Door's there. Same way I came in, yeah?”

“Esca,” Marcus says quietly, and if Victoria suspects anything she says nothing, “let me, please.”

*

“She's lovely,” Esca says when they're standing on the front stoop. “Really, I mean that.”

And he does mean it. He expected to detest Marcus's fiance at first sight, but he can't find fault with Victoria, aside from the fact that she has what Esca wants. Or wanted.

“She'll make you happy.”

“Esca.”

“Does she know about us?”

Marcus eases the door closed, as if he's aiming for privacy. “No.”

“That doesn't surprise me,” Esca says, “you never wanted to tell people back then either.”

“Esca,” Marcus repeats, and it sounds like it pains him each time he says it.

The idea makes Esca want to lash out, because Marcus has no right to sound hurt. He's the one who put them in this situation. He's the one who left Esca behind, and moved on, and now apparently can't say Esca's name without sounding like he's on the verge of breaking down. Esca is the one who was supposed to sound hurt, and kick Marcus in the shins, and tell him what an absolute prat he was – and still is.

But Esca glances around, and Marcus's neighbor is cutting his lawn in the fading sunlight, and someone else walks by with a dog on a leash, and Marcus's doorstep is probably not the best place to start an argument.

“You didn't even invite me,” Esca says under his breath. “I wouldn't be able to make it? What the fuck is that?”

“I couldn't,” Marcus mutters, “you know why.”

“I was your best friend, though. I mean, above everything else, there was always that.”

“You still are.” Marcus's eyes are pleading, and he's starting to look as upset as he sounds.

“No,” Esca says, his tone louder and more harsh than it should be on the front step of Marcus's house, "you don't get to do this. You don't get to be hurt over this.”

“Just – ” Marcus is struggling, and he reaches for Esca's wrist.

Esca pulls back, glancing around before meeting Marcus's eye. “No.”

“Esca, please,” Marcus pleads, “just stay. I want you to stay.”

“And what? Go over your wedding plans? Help you fix things around the house?”

“No, I just want to talk to you,” Marcus is giving him that broken look, the one that used to make Esca's heart hurt, and Esca has to look away from him.

“I'm not staying here.”

Marcus reaches into his pockets, hands searching, “I have money. Stay at a hotel, whatever you want, just don't leave.”

“This is fucking ridiculous, I shouldn't even be here. I don't know why I came.”

“Esca,” Marcus shoves several bills into Esca's hand, “please.”

Esca glances down at the bills and sighs as he looks back up at Marcus. “I'll stay until tomorrow. We'll have coffee or something. Somewhere public. Then I'm gone.”

“Okay, coffee,” relief washes over Marcus's face. “Promise me you won't leave before that.”

“I won't leave before that,” Esca mutters. “I said we'd have coffee, we'll have coffee. You know I keep the promises I make.”

The last line is a dig at Marcus, and Esca can see in Marcus's face when the meaning of the words hit him. Esca expected to feel satisfaction in seeing Marcus's face fall, but instead he just feels sick. How did they find themselves here?

“Give me your number,” Esca says, “I'll text you in the morning.”

Marcus scrambles to remember his number, and Esca puts it in his phone.

“Tomorrow then.”

Esca leaves without glancing at Marcus again, getting into his car and taking off without a wave. He knows Marcus stands on the steps and watches him go, but Esca can't be bothered to look back.

*

 _[Done it. probably shouldn't have.]_

Esca texts Cottia after he checks into the hotel. It's a low-key one, right off the highway. He'd stayed there once before with Marcus, when they'd been visiting Marcus's uncle, and Marcus wanted to avoid a big explanation of why they should share a room, and a bed. Looking back, the situation irks Esca, but at the time it was just fun – spending the day at the Aquila estate and then escaping back to the hotel, fucking for hours, drinking expensive things from the mini bar. Those were the early days, when everything was new and exciting, and anything seemed possible. They were finally together, after dancing around it forever, and they were happy. Now it feels like ages ago.

Cottia's reply comes almost immediately, as if she'd been sitting by her phone.

_[Want me to call u?]_

_[Not up for talking. met her. very nice. he looks the same]_

_[i can only imagine his face when he saw you. did he say anything?]_

_[just small talk. Then he asked me to stay at a hotel]_

_[WHAT? so where are u?]_

_[that hotel by the highway where we stayed one time]_

_[the one where u broke the headboard?]_

_[yes. thanks for the reminder.]_

_[sorry. is Marcus with u?]_

_[no]_

_[oh.]_

_[we're having coffee tomorrow then I'm leaving]_

There's a delay before Cottia texts again, and Esca assumes she's trying to decide what to say, or what might be safe to ask. They've always been open with each other, but she knows when to tread lightly – and Marcus is one subject that leaves her tiptoeing around Esca.

_[so what do u think will happen?]_

Esca considers the question for a second before typing a reply.

_[We'll drink coffee then say goodbye. no other option really.]_

_[R u going to try to change his mind?]_

Esca sighs as he reads the message. He would've loved to change Marcus's mind. He'd thought of a million scenarios during the drive up, most involving Marcus returning home with him after a lengthy apology. But now the idea seems ridiculous, and it's too late for that anyway. Victoria is nice, and they seem happy together, and if he loves Marcus shouldn't he want him to be happy?

Esca frowns at the idea, as it's easier said than done.

_[Too late.]_

_[Esca. u guys love each other]_

_[not sure about that]_

_[what does that mean?]_

_[never mind. should sleep. will text you tomorrow]_

_[E, are u ok? call me]_

_[i'm okay. promise. ttyl]_

_[if u need to talk call me no matter what time]_

_[I will <3]_

_[love u]_

Esca strips out of his clothes and climbs under the covers. He glances around the room, which is a mirror image of the one he stayed in with Marcus, and it feels very surreal.

He can still picture Marcus sitting in a similar desk chair, checking his phone. Esca can see his silhouette standing in the door of the bathroom, and he can imagine the feel of Marcus in the bed next to him – laughing and smiling and talking quietly, then falling asleep first. He remembers massaging Marcus's leg on the second night, and then fitting in perfectly against Marcus's back, wrapping an arm around him and falling asleep. In the morning Marcus made coffee in the complimentary coffee maker, and it tasted like shit but Esca refused to say it first, pretending to drink it happily until Marcus took a taste and immediately ran to spit it out. The garbage bin is even in the same corner, and Esca can picture Marcus standing next to it, wiping his mouth and laughing. He'd taken the mug from Esca, not wanting him to drink anymore, and then they'd gone out for breakfast. Marcus paid, as if he owed Esca something for the awful coffee.

Tired of remembering, Esca flicks off the light.

In the morning he'll see Marcus for the last time and they'll say their goodbyes. Then he'll go on with his life.

*

They meet at a coffee shop a few blocks from the hotel. It's not one they've been to before, at least not together, and Esca figures it'll be easier to say goodbye if they're not in a familiar place. No memories, no reminders. Just hello, a few words, and he'll be gone.

He's not prepared for the ache he feels when Marcus walks through the door. His Marcus, towering over everyone, searching for Esca's face in the crowd. Esca takes a deep breath, trying to hold onto his anger as Marcus catches sight of him and makes his way over.

“Hey,” Marcus says, and Esca can tell he's nervous. He's smiling, but he's fidgeting, rubbing a palm against his thigh as he asks Esca if he's ordered anything yet.

“Thought I'd wait for you.” Esca moves to stand but Marcus stops him.

“Stay here, I'll get it.”

“Marcus, it's fine.”

“No, let me, please.”

Marcus leaves quickly, cutting through the crowd, and he returns with Esca's usual – a large coffee with three sugars, and an oatmeal cookie.

“Still remember that then,” Esca says.

“Yeah,” Marcus smiles, sitting down with his own coffee.

 

Awkward silence falls between them, and Esca can feel his ire rising as Marcus stares at him.

“So you wanted to talk.”

“Sorry, yeah,” Marcus nods, breaking his focus on Esca. “I'm just really glad to see you.”

Esca takes a sip of his coffee. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I don't know,” Marcus replies, “I just wanted to talk.”

“Marcus,” Esca sighs.

“Where are you staying?” Marcus asks quickly, as if he's grasping for anything to keep Esca there.

“That hotel by the highway.”

“The one that we –”

“Yes.”

Marcus nods and Esca can see him remembering, smiling wistfully to himself. “That was fun.”

“It was, yeah.”

Marcus glances down at his coffee cup. “Remember I made coffee?”

“I do.”

“And it was awful.”

“It was.”

Marcus looks up at him, and if he's frustrated by the simple answers he doesn't show it. “So how are you?”

“Fine,” Esca says. “Same old, same old.”

“Are you at the same apartment?”

“Yep, same old leaky faucets, and the front step's still broken. I've been pestering the landlords, but they haven't done a thing yet.”

Marcus smiles. “I miss that place.”

Esca ignores the comment. “You managed to find a good job up here?”

“It's good enough. Not exactly where I want to be yet, but it'll do.”

“I run into Lutorius occasionally.

“Oh yeah? How's he doing?”

“He seems good. He always asks how you are.”

“What do you tell him?”

“I usually just make something up. You moved away, and you're happy. I assume that's close enough to the truth anyway.”

“Esca.” Marcus shifts in his chair. The movement is subtle, unnoticeable to most people, but Esca knows he's stretching his leg.

Esca nods towards Marcus's left knee. “How's your leg?”

“Still bad.” Marcus rubs down his thigh.

“Do you have a new doctor here?”

Marcus nods. “Stephanos, a friend of my uncle's. I think he's retiring soon, though, so I'll have to start searching again.”

“I'm sure your uncle has connections. He always seemed to know everyone.”

“He does, for sure.”

 

There's a pause in the conversation and they're just looking at each other, and Esca knows it's a mistake. He knows he needs to say something, _anything_ , to keep them on track and to steer the conversation from the direction he can see it going.

Esca knows Marcus – knows that look of sadness in his eye, the breath before he says something he's been holding back.

“I miss you.”

“Marcus, don't.” Esca sighs in frustration. It wasn't supposed to go here, it was supposed to just be coffee.

“It's true, Esca, I miss you.”

“And you think I don't miss you?” Esca hisses. “I miss you every single fucking day.”

Marcus frowns. “I was worried that you hated me.”

“Why would I hate you?”

“Because of everything,” Marcus says, unable to meet his eye. “Then I wrote to you and you never responded.”

“You sent me a postcard,” Esca replies, trying to keep his voice quiet. “I mean, a postcard, Marcus? A fucking postcard?”

“I know, it was stupid, but I wanted you to know where I was.”

“So I could do what? Drive up here and beg you to change your mind?”

“No,” Marcus says emphatically. “I don't know. Maybe.”

“I begged you not to leave and you left anyway. That's not me, Marcus, I don't beg. But I did for you.”

“Esca – ”

“I won't do it again.”

“I know.. I just wanted to talk to you again, but I was afraid,” Marcus leans closer, and Esca recognizes the look in his eye. That hurt look. Marcus was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he's never been able to hide when he's upset. “I figured you didn't love me anymore.”

“Of course –!” Esca shouts before stopping himself. A few of the other patrons look their way, and Esca lets out a sigh as he presses his fingers to his forehead in frustration. “Of course I still love you,” he whispers. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't.”

“Can we go somewhere else to talk? Outside? Anywhere.”

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Please, Esca.”

“Marcus, you're engaged to someone else. I doubt she'd like her fiance sneaking off to chat with his ex.”

“It's not –” Marcus stammers, “I don't care. She'd understand.”

“She'd understand?”

“She knows I miss you.”

“She may, but she doesn't know the full story. You made sure of that.”

“Esca –”

“You never told anyone, Marcus. And I never understood it. I figured you must've been ashamed of us.”

“Esca, I wasn't,” Marcus says, his eyes pleading with Esca's across the table. “I was never ashamed. Can we please go somewhere else?”

“I'll go outside, but that's it.”

Marcus stands quickly, waiting for Esca to stand before he heads for the door. In his haste, Marcus leaves his coffee behind.

*

Looking back later, Esca barely remembers the parking lot or the bench. He doesn't remember the people passing by as they talked and fought and cried. He doesn't remember the weather, or the warmth of the morning sun, or the cool breeze. It could've been raining and Esca is sure he wouldn't have noticed. He isn't even sure exactly how long they sat together on that bench.

He only remembers Marcus, with his broken look, and his pleading gaze, and the break in his voice each time he spoke.

 

It's hard to stay angry with Marcus when he looks so defeated, but Esca holds hard to it. The anger is all he's got at this point.

“Esca, I was never ashamed of us.”

“And yet, you hardly told anyone about it!” It's the first time he's been able to raise his voice at Marcus since he arrived the day before, and Esca is almost glad for the sudden freedom of it. “You said we would, eventually we'd tell everyone, but you left before we ever did. Took off and left me behind and I'm still hiding it for you. Most of the people we know have no idea I loved you. They have no idea that my heart fucking broke when you left, and now I'm left answering questions about you because no one knows that it kills me to be reminded. It kills me to have to explain that you left town and I haven't seen you in over a year. And you did that, Marcus. You caused that.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It doesn't matter now.”

“Esca, please, can I explain?”

Esca shrugs. “If you'd like.”

“I loved you. I mean, I love you,” Marcus stammers. “I still love you. I didn't think it would hurt you like this – ”

“Of course it would hurt me!”

“I didn't know.” Marcus lowers his gaze, staring at his hands which rest open-palmed on his legs, a look of disbelief on his face. “I didn't think– I mean, I thought you'd be okay.”

“Why the _fuck_ would you think I'd be okay with this?”

Marcus shakes his head. “I don't know. I just figured you'd find someone else.”

“ _Someone else_?”

“Yeah. Someone better.”

Esca can feel the rage building in his gut. Rage over Marcus's nonchalant attitude, as if Esca would just find someone else, as if Esca thought there were better guys out there than Marcus, as if none of it mattered and his heart would just get over it.

“You think I haven't looked for someone else?” Esca nearly shouts. “You think I haven't slept with other people?” Marcus glances at him as he says it, and Esca recognizes the hurt in Marcus's eye as he realizes Esca's been with other guys. “I have,” Esca continues, “and do you know how ridiculous it feels when some guy spends the night and I hear him stir and I think it's you?”

“Esca – ”

“Do you know how awkward it is trying to explain to someone you barely know why you're rubbing their knee in the middle of the night?”

Marcus is giving him that heartbroken look and Esca tries his best to ignore it, wanting to say everything before he's lost his chance. If Marcus wants to talk then he's going to have to hear what Esca has to say.

“In my heart, there was no one better than you. Even with all of this, and everything you did that I just don't understand, my heart still wanted you. I still hope it's you in the middle of the night, and I can't get close to anyone because my stupid fucking heart still wants you.”

It takes Marcus a moment to speak, his eyes wet with tears that he seems to be trying to shake off. “I still want you too.”

“Fucking hell, Marcus.” It's what Esca wanted to hear, the thing he'd hoped for as he drove up the day before, but it's too late. “So why'd you do this?”

“You know why,” Marcus says quietly. “I told you why.”

Marcus had explained it fifteen months earlier – his father, his name, carrying on tradition– and Esca had been too furious to listen properly or bring himself to care. “Something about your father.”

“Esca, I'm an only child. I don't have siblings, I don't have cousins. When my uncle dies it'll just be me, and when I die the name Aquila will go with me.”

“So you want kids.”

“Yes.”

“But not with me then.”

“Esca, you don't – ”

“We could've adopted, Marcus,” Esca interrupts, assuming Marcus is about to state the obvious. “It'd be harder, but we could've done it. Or – ”

“But, Esca, you don't – ” Marcus gives him a look of confused disbelief. “You said you didn't want kids.”

“I never said that.”

“Yes you did.”

“I never fucking said that!”

“ _You did_ ,” Marcus stresses, “that time we went with Cottia to her sister's place. You said you never wanted kids.”

“Fuck sake, Marcus, we weren't even together then!”

Esca remembers the day clearly. They'd gone with Cottia –for reasons Esca can no longer recall– and her nieces and nephew had been wild things, screaming and yelling and tearing up the house, and on the ride back Esca had ranted about never wanting kids. It had been years before, when Esca was single and he only vaguely suspected that Marcus liked men, and had no notion that Marcus might like _him_.

“That was years ago. People change. I might've changed.”

“I didn't think you would.”

“You never asked me.” Esca stares at him, frustration welling inside at the idea that _this_ is what made Marcus leave. “If I knew you wanted them I would've reconsidered, but you never gave me a chance. We could've adopted, or surrogate, or _something_.”

“They wouldn't have your name.”

“Christ, Marcus,” Esca shouts, “ _I don't care_! That doesn't matter to me, they'd have your name but they would've been _ours_ and I would've loved them because they were ours.”

“I didn't know,” Marcus grows quiet again, staring at his hands. “I should've asked. I'm sorry I didn't ask.”

“It's too late now. It's done.”

 

They're quiet for a moment, which gives Esca a chance to consider Marcus's words. He thinks of the trip to Cottia's sister's and that long-ago rant that Marcus held onto for so long, the one that played such a deciding factor in their life together.

“So if you knew..” Esca says slowly. “If you thought I felt that way back then – ?”

Marcus glances over at him, looking fearful of what Esca is about to say.

“Were you planning this all along?”

“Esca – ” Marcus whispers, shaking his head.

“Were you planning it? Did you know back then?”

“I just wanted you.”

“Marcus, tell me the truth.”

“I thought maybe we could try it, just for a while.”

“Try what?”

“The two of us, being together.”

“Oh god,” Esca sighs, because it's starting to make sense. “Marcus – ”

“You were the only thing I wanted. The only thing I wanted for myself in this life, and I thought maybe I could have that for a bit, before – ”

“That's why you never told anyone.”

“I just – ”

“Because you were always planning to leave.”

“I thought it would be easier.”

It all makes sense. The need for secrecy, the promise of 'someday', and the way Marcus seemed to be readying himself for it near the end, trying to take it all in and remember it, and give himself something to hold onto later.

He'd been planning to leave from day one. Esca hadn't stood a chance.

“Oh fuck, Marcus,” Esca breathes, resting his forehead in his hands. “Sometimes I forget why I ever loved you.”

He can hear the hitch in Marcus's breath and there's a beat before Marcus speaks.

“You didn't cry when I left.”

“I did!” Esca snaps, glancing up.

Tears fall silently down Marcus's face, and Esca had always been amazed at Marcus's ability to cry openly. He was never one to hide it, and his tears always fell strong and silent, like Marcus himself.

“I never saw you cry.”

“I was fucking furious,” Esca explains, “I was too angry to cry. But once you were gone I cried. I cried for ages.”

“I didn't know. I thought you didn't – ” Marcus pauses, holding something back, and Esca can guess what it is. That Esca didn't care, or that he didn't love Marcus, or any other absurd thing that Marcus likely assumed without actually asking Esca.

“You just assumed,” Esca spits. “Like everything else, you just assumed and you didn't even give me a chance.”

“Esca, I'm sorry – ”

“I should go.”

“Don't.”

“Nah, really,” Esca stands, “I should go. You wanted to talk and we've talked and I'm not sure there's much more to say at this point.”

Marcus stands too, trying to catch Esca's eye. “Esca, please stay.”

“Christ, Marcus!” Esca turns to him, ignoring the people walking by, not caring that they're drawing attention to themselves. “You want to know why I came here? I had this stupid notion that I could win you back. I wanted to meet your fiancé and see if you look at her the way you used to look at me.”

“I don't.”

“No, you fucking don't,” Esca seethes. “But it doesn't matter, because she's got you, and she's fucking great, Marcus. I wanted to hate her and I can't, because she didn't cause this. You caused this.” Esca points at Marcus, jabbing his finger into Marcus's chest. “You did, and now we're both fucked.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You didn't trust me enough to know that I loved you. You didn't think I'd be hurt over this? You thought I'd just go on with my life and forget about you?”

“I didn't – ”

“Fuck you, Marcus,” Esca spits. “You obviously don't know me at all.”

“Esca, please.” Marcus reaches for him, trying to grab his wrist and Esca lets him, figuring it's the last chance to feel Marcus's touch.

Marcus pulls him into a hug and Esca goes, welcoming the feel of Marcus's arms around him. It's familiar, and comfortable, and exactly where Esca has wanted to be for the last fifteen months. He's missed it, the strength of Marcus's arms and his familiar scent, and Esca can only breathe against his neck as Marcus begs “please, Esca, please.”

“I have go,” Esca mutters, and Marcus nods against him. He lets himself stay for another second or two, taking it in, allowing himself this one last memory. Marcus had done it fifteen months earlier and hadn't given Esca a chance to, but this is his chance.

He burns it into his mind, the feel of Marcus, his scent, the warmth of his embrace and the low rumble of his voice as he begs Esca not to leave, and then Esca leans in and speaks one last thing against Marcus's ear.

“I'd have loved you forever if you would've let me.”

He can feel Marcus break against him, and Esca breaks too.

“There,” Esca laughs bitterly as he pulls away, “tears, yeah? Happy now?”

Marcus looks both surprised and absolutely destroyed and he can only shake his head in response.

“Take care,” Esca says.

 

He doesn't remember walking to his car. He only remembers the look on Marcus's face as he turned away, and the next moment Esca is pulling out of the parking lot with Marcus's reflection growing smaller in his rear view mirror.

*

 _[on my way back.]_

He's halfway home when he finally pulls over and texts Cottia. He expects the ring, knowing she'll have a million questions, and doesn't even wait for her name to appear on the screen before he answers.

“Hey.”

“Are you alright?”

“Not really.”

“What happened?”

There's a pause as he fiddles with his keys, then runs his hand over the steering wheel as he lets out a sigh of frustration.

“Esca?”

“He'd planned it all along.”

“Planned what?”

“To leave me, he'd planned it from day one.”

“He didn't say that, did he? I can't see him – ”

“He said it.”

“He actually said that?”

“Well, not in those words.”

“Did you misunderstand? I mean, he always wanted.. for ages he wanted..” Cottia trails off.

“He wanted a fucking fling,” Esca spits. “He never intended to stay – ”

“No, he wanted _you_ , Esca. For years he wanted you.”

“Not forever then, because he knew all along he'd be leaving.”

“No,” Cottia says, “no, fuck that, Esca” and he can imagine her shaking her head, ready to throw down her phone in frustration. He waits for the rant he knows is coming. “You don't know how long I had to listen to him go on about you. He wanted you for ages and was too scared to do anything about it. You remember that one New Year's Eve? When you brought that guy you were dating? The asshole with all the piercings? What the hell was his name? Plaster – ?”

“Placidus.”

“Yeah, him. You guys got trashed on tequila and made out in the middle of my kitchen, remember?”

Esca can't help but laugh to himself. “Vaguely.”

“Then you ran off to fuck in _my_ bedroom –which, by the way, _classy_ , E– and I spent the rest of the night listening to Marcus whine about how he'd never be interesting enough for you, and there was no way you'd ever want him –”

“Except I already wanted him then.”

“I fucking know you did! And it took everything I had not to tell him that at the time, because you two idiots were still dancing around each other and not talking about how you really felt.”

“Apparently we never got better at that,” Esca mumbles.

He can hear Cottia sigh at her end.

“He still loves you.”

“I know.”

“So what now then?”

“Nothing.” Esca glances in his rear view mirror. There are lights on the horizon and he can't deny that a small part of him hopes one of the cars might be Marcus's. “Now he gets married and I move on.”

“You're not going to fight for him?”

“Fuck, Cottia, I've fought enough for him. Begged him not to leave, and drove all the way up here, but I'm not going to fight his fiancé for him. It's not her fault he's a fucking stupid noble idiot.”

“You know he's going to go through with this wedding then, right? I mean, if you don't do something–”

“What am I supposed to do?” Esca shouts, suddenly tired of everything falling on him. “I've done everything I could, and he's not a child, Cottia. He can make decisions for himself, and he made this one. I don't like it, but what can I do?”

“I don't know.”

As a pause between them drags out, Esca turns his keys in the ignition and his car roars to life.

“Where are you?”

“Sitting on the shoulder of the highway.”

“Want me to come meet you?”

“No point, I'll be home in the amount of time it'd take you to get here.”

“Can I stop by later then? We'll order pizza and get drunk?”

“Maybe tomorrow?” Esca leans forward, touching his forehead to the steering wheel. “Just need to be on my own tonight.”

“Okay,” Cottia replies, and he can hear the reluctance in her voice. “Call me if you need anything though, yeah?”

“I will.”

“Love you, E.”

“You too.”

*

He skips the diner on the way back, not needing anymore reminders of Marcus, and lets his mind drift only once when a sad song comes on the radio. He reaches over and angrily flicks it off, and spends the rest of the drive focusing on what turns he needs to make and watching his speed.

It's still daylight when he gets home, but the house seems darker than usual. Esca sits in the driver's seat and stares up at the darkened windows and the stupid blue curtains Marcus put up after they'd been living there a month. He'd watched Marcus measure out the windows and hang all the rods, and Esca had teased him at the time, joking that he was taking over the place. But, secretly, he loved it. It felt as if they were really setting up a proper home together, as if Marcus was settling in and making it his own too.

He'd been happy to have a boyfriend who hung curtains, and made him horrible coffee, and cuddled with him under a too-small red blanket with white trim, and snored, and took up all the space on their bed.

His gaze moves to the front step, and Esca can still see Marcus carrying groceries up it one Sunday afternoon and putting his foot right through the rotting board. Esca had fretted over him, worrying about his knee, and he remembered calling the landlord and telling him off for not replacing the boards sooner. Marcus had just laughed and hugged him when he hung up the phone, saying he was fine and it wasn't a big deal. They never did repair that spot, and Esca had nearly stopped thinking about Marcus every time he stepped over the hole in the wood.

But it's all flooding back now.

It takes him a good five minutes to leave the car, unbuckling his seatbelt, checking and rechecking his phone, running his thumbs over the wheel and wondering if there's somewhere else he can go, or if he really does have to go inside his house, knowing Marcus won't be there.

He curses himself. Fifteen months, and he'd just started to get his life back to normal. He'd stopped expecting Marcus to be there when he woke up in the morning, and he'd stopped looking for him in the evening, wondering when he'd be home from work. The hole in the front step just became another thing he'd need to repair someday, and the blue curtains had lost their meaning, fading into the background to the point that Esca barely noticed them anymore. Fifteen months, and now, within two days he was back to the beginning. And likely worse off than he'd been before, because he'd always known why Marcus left, but he didn't understand it until now. There had never been a hope for them, Marcus had seen to that.

He considers going to Cottia's, and then curses himself again before pushing open the car door and shutting it behind him with a slam. When he reaches the front step he yanks at the broken board, nearly falling backward when the rusted nails finally break free from their supports. He tosses it up onto the porch, sending it landing with a clatter, and cringes when he catches sight of his neighbor, Mrs. Helm, peeking out her door. She's staring at him with worried suspicion, and he raises a hand, offering her a friendly wave.

“Pesky step,” he calls. “I'll be contacting them this week to fix it.”

“Will you tell them about the driveway too?” she calls back, still looking a bit worried.

Esca nods and waves again, relieved when she closes her door and leaves him alone with his frustration.

 

Once inside, he considers taking down the curtains, but figures he'll be pissed at himself tomorrow morning when the sun's beating in on him. So he stomps through the house, searching for other reminders of Marcus, surprised when he hardly finds any. He can remember doing this before, shortly after Marcus left. He'd packed up everything Marcus left behind, a few books and some stray clothes, and threw it all in the storage locker in the basement.

The only thing left was the red blanket in the bottom of his dresser.

Esca heads to his bedroom and flicks on the light, eyes moving immediately to that bottom drawer. He stands in the doorway for a moment, debating with himself, then marches forward and tugs open the drawer.

The fabric looks more worn than he remembers, the edges slightly tattered from overuse. There's a small stain on one of the corners, a remnant of their first Christmas Eve together when Marcus had spilled hot chocolate all over their new couch. They'd both lunged for the blanket first, trying to protect it from the dark liquid, and they'd laughed about it later when they had to rent a steam cleaner to get the stains out of their couch cushions.

He considers tossing the blanket in the trash, or throwing it out on the lawn and setting it ablaze, but his mind slips to an image of a terrified Mrs. Helm calling the police on him, and he reconsiders.

Instead, he sits on the floor and takes the blanket out of the drawer, wrapping it around himself. It's been a long time since he's done it, and he's suddenly desperate for the scent of Marcus on the fabric. He knows it won't be there, though, because he's done this enough to know the scent is long gone.

It just smells like fabric, with a hint of old musty drawer, and Esca pulls it from his shoulders and refolds it. It's just a blanket now. Nothing special.

He rises from the floor and shuts off the light.

*

The buzz of his phone jolts him awake, and Esca fumbles for a moment, trying to locate it on the messy bedside table.

_[u ok?]_

It's been nearly a week since he got back from seeing Marcus, and Cottia still texts him every night to ask how he's doing. It hasn't reached the point of annoyance yet, so Esca smiles to himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before he manages to type out a reply.

_[was sleeping.]_

_[sorry. can let u sleep]_

_[it's ok]_

_[any chance he called?]_

_[he won't call.]_

_[he might still]_

Esca lets out a sigh and climbs out of bed, padding across the bare floor and down the hallway. The kitchen light nearly blinds him when he flicks it on, and he raises a hand to shield his eyes as he heads for the fridge. He's contemplating the expiry date on his milk container when Cottia texts him again.

_[would u be pissed if i called him?]_

_[you can do what you want. but don't call him for my sake.]_

_[i just don't get it]_

_[he made his choice, let it go]_

There's a delay before she texts again, and Esca knows his comment wasn't what she wanted to hear.

_[fine. chat tomorrow?]_

_[y]_

_[ <3]_

*

He had a dream about Marcus on the third night he was back, and he's sure he called out Marcus's name in his sleep. Upon waking, Esca couldn't recall the dream, but he spent the rest of the day feeling melancholy and homesick for something he couldn't remember.

Two weeks pass quickly. The days are the same. Work, sleep, work, go out with a few friends, work, sleep, sit at home, work, sleep. It's easier this time, getting over it all. He's still angry, but the sadness seems to fade far faster than it did the last time, and that realization almost makes Esca sad all over again. As if his heart has grown so accustomed to not having Marcus, that it's getting easier to recover from each hurt.

Esca knows the wedding is approaching, but he hasn't been able to bring himself to ask Cottia about the actual date. He's torn between wanting to know, as if his heart needs to know when it's really over between them, and not wanting to know, figuring he'll only want to go out and drink himself into a stupor, and hook up with some random guy who will likely remind him of Marcus. Then he'll wake up disappointed when he remembers Marcus is married and he's got some stranger in his bed.

*

 _[pub this weekend?]_

It's been seventeen days since he saw Marcus, not that he's counting.

_[can't, sorry. early next week maybe?]_

_[big plans?]_

Esca's stomach feels like lead, because he can almost guess what those plans might be. He's not even sure why he's asking, and he curses himself as he thumbs over the send key.

It takes Cottia a few minutes to reply, and it's enough to tell him what he doesn't want to know.

_[the wedding's this weekend]_

So that's it then. By Sunday, Marcus will be married to someone else.

_[ok. next week.]_

He knows Cottia well enough to know his phone is about to ring, and he answers immediately.

“Hey.”

“Esca, we don't have to go. Lee doesn't even really want to.”

“Nah, you should go. One of us should be there for him.”

“You could still call him, there's still a few days– ”

“I've told you, I'm not calling him.”

“I should've done it,” she says, and he can hear the shuffling of papers at her end of the phone. “I shouldn't have listened to you.”

“Fuck, Cottia, you can't fix it for us. It was up to him, and he's obviously made his choice.”

“You know he makes shit choices sometimes.”

Esca laughs. “There's a lot of truth in that.”

“I know!” Cottia shouts from her end. “I don't know how he's getting by up there without us.”

They fall silent, both thinking of Marcus.

“It's good to hear you laugh again, at least,” Cottia says after a moment. The shuffling sound continues, and then she's rambling on about directions and the best way to get to Marcus's uncle's estate. “I've got this fucking invite, but the map looks like it's done in another language.”

“I'll email you easier directions,” Esca offers and Cottia tells him it'd be greatly appreciated, especially since Lee will be driving and he refuses to use her GPS.

“Is there anything you want me to tell him?”

“Who, Lee?”

“No, not Lee. _Marcus_ , you knobhead.”

“Oh.” Esca says, running his palm down his face. He hadn't even considered the idea. “No,” he decides quickly, “don't mention me to him on his wedding day. Just let him be.”

“I don't know how you can be so calm.”

“I'm not really,” Esca admits. “I've just stopped caring about it.”

“Esca.”

“It's fine,” he says, as he feels a lump forming in his throat, and he suddenly wants to get off the phone. “Do me one favor though?”

“Yeah, anything.”

“Make sure he's happy.”

“Esca –”

“Cottia, you know him, you know when he's happy and when he's not. So make sure he is, yeah?”

“Okay.”

*

Over the next two days, Esca throws himself into his work, spending long hours away from the house and getting home too tired to do much thinking.

He's determined to go out on the weekend, not wanting to spend Saturday cooped up alone, and he's got a few friends who didn't know Marcus well enough to be invited to the wedding. Hell, he's got a few friends now who don't even know Marcus at all.

So he sends out a few texts and makes plans for a night of drinking and debauchery. It'll be good, getting out and distracting himself. Maybe he'll meet someone, and maybe this time he'll be able to focus on them instead of the person he really wants, because Marcus will be officially out of his life.

He fully expects to wake up feeling like shit on Saturday morning, but on Friday morning he's still good. He wakes up relatively happy, showering, eating a quick breakfast, and he's just about to change into his proper work clothes when there's a knock at his door.

Without thinking, Esca jogs from the bedroom to the front hall, shouting “be there in a second!”

He assumes it'll be Mrs. Helm, or one of the landlords to finally fix the front step, so he's not prepared when he rounds the corner and sees Marcus standing on the other side of his screen door.

 

“What're you doing here?”

They're the first words out of Esca's mouth when he finally forces himself to open the door. Not _“hi”_ or _“how are you?”_ or _“what took you so long?”_ or _“you're finally here, thank god, thank god, thank god.”_ He can't bring himself to say those words. Can't bring himself to say anything that might get him hurt again.

He'd debated whether or not he should even open the door when he spotted Marcus on the other side. After screeching to a halt on the hardwood floor, he backed up quickly, standing behind the wall between the front hall and the kitchen, cursing himself for being such a coward.

Leave it to Marcus to show up the day before his wedding. Nineteen days had passed since that morning at the coffee shop. Nineteen days since he'd seen Marcus cry and heard him admit that he'd always planned to leave. Nineteen days since Esca had his heart broken a second time, and he'd left Marcus behind.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“You're about nineteen days too late,” Esca sighs. He holds the door open, but makes no motion to step back and let Marcus inside.

“I'm sorry, Esca, please,” Marcus pleads, “I'm so sorry.”

His hair looks even shorter than Esca had seen it last, likely freshly cut for the wedding. His eyes are tired, and his face looks weary, and Esca has to fight every instinct telling him to hug Marcus and bring him inside and make whatever hurt he's feeling go away. Esca fights it with everything he has, because he's been hurt too, and there's no way he's going let himself be hurt again.

“You have to go,” Esca says firmly, not even saying Marcus's name out of fear his voice might break. “I can't do this again. Whatever you want to talk about, I don't want to hear it.”

“Esca – ”

“I can't.”

“Please – ”

“Marcus, _I can't_.” And that does it. His voice breaks on Marcus's name, and he's closing the door in Marcus's face.

Marcus remains at the door, his head down, showing no intention of moving. His stubbornness grates at Esca, and without thinking he finds himself marching to his bedroom and tugging open the bottom drawer of his dresser. He yanks out the red blanket and heads back to the door.

Marcus raises his head when the door begins to open, hope registering on his face, and Esca shoves the blanket at him, forcing it into his arms.

“You forgot that last time,” Esca says just before closing the door again. “If you want the rest, it's in the basement. Mrs. Helm can unlock it.”

 

When the door is closed, Esca retreats into the kitchen. He doesn't want to see Marcus standing at the door, and worse than that, he doesn't want to watch Marcus turn and leave. Esca figures if he's in another part of the house he can wait Marcus out and hopefully he'll will be gone by the time Esca is ready to leave for work.

Marcus knocks again, and Esca ignores it.

He focuses on the last part of his regular morning routine, pouring coffee into a travel mug, and his hands are shaking by the time he's reaching for the sugar.

“Fuck.”

He tosses the spoon into the sink and heads for his bedroom, intentionally averting his gaze as he passes between the kitchen and the front hall. If Marcus is still standing at the door with a pitiful expression on his face, Esca doesn't want to know.

He throws off his pajama pants and t-shirt, and redresses quickly before checking himself in the mirror. His hands are still shaking, so he shoves them into his pockets, and focuses on his face. He looks tired, and he's staring back at himself, wide-eyed, his brows stuck halfway up his forehead in a look of perpetual surprise.

He takes a deep breath and blows out a gust of air.

Marcus doesn't knock again, at least, and Esca takes it as a sign that he's not going to push it.

He's feeling a bit calmer when he heads back to the kitchen to grab the coffee and his keys, and when Esca finally braves a look at the door he's relieved to find Marcus is gone.

Relieved, and sad.

That's it then.

 

He's got his hand on the doorknob when he catches sight of something, a shadow on the front porch, and he takes a step back when he realizes Marcus is sitting on the front step, the red blanket bundled up on his knees. It's obvious he's waiting. Likely determined to sit there and wait him out.

A litany of whispered curses fall from Esca's mouth before he turns away from the door.

He heads back into the kitchen to drop his keys and coffee back on the counter, and takes a seat at the table. Esca sits there for a moment, weighing his options. He could head outside anyway, and just try to ignore Marcus. He could slip out the back door, but his car is at the front of the house so he'd still have to see Marcus. Either way would likely result in Marcus trying to talk to him again, and Esca knows that any sort of pleading from Marcus might break his resolve.

 _Marcus and his stupid fucking bullheadedness._ Esca knows Marcus will wait. How long, he's not sure, but if Marcus is sitting there, Esca is sure he's planning to wait.

Fine. Esca will just wait longer.

He calls his boss and gives a rambling excuse about his car not starting and how he'll just work from home, and then he's stomping into the living room and setting up his laptop on the coffee table.

He attempts to work, willing himself to stop looking at the clock on his screen, but after thirty-five minutes and barely two lines of script he's standing and heading for the door.

Esca glances out again, and Marcus is still sitting in the same position, hands tucked under the blanket as if he's trying to keep them warm. 

As Esca watches, Mrs. Helm appears from her side of the lawn, approaching Marcus with her familiar smile. She always liked Marcus better – he was the one who volunteered to mow her lawn for her, and always pulled up the weeds from her flowerbed without being asked. Esca stands back a bit, hiding in the shadow as he watches them converse, and for a moment he wishes he could hear what they were saying. She's still smiling at Marcus, and Esca can tell by the tilt of Marcus's head that he's smiling back at her, or at least trying to. She gestures to the driveway, and the broken front step, and then to her flowerbed, and Esca can only imagine what she's saying as she rambles to Marcus for several minutes. Finally, as the conversation ends Marcus nods and gives her a wave as she heads back to her house. Esca steps back again, afraid Marcus is going to turn around, but he doesn't. Marcus stays where he is, lowers his head, and waits.

Esca lets out a sigh of frustration and heads to his room. If Marcus is planning to sit there for hours, then maybe Esca can hide out in there. He's exhausted anyway, after the last two days of non-stop work, and he could use the time to catch up on sleep.

 

He should've known it was a shit idea.

As soon as he's in his bed his mind is on Marcus, remembering the first time Marcus stayed over, when they'd both had a bit too much to drink and he'd hidden Marcus's keys. Marcus could've stayed in the spare room, but they'd passed out in Esca's bed sometime after four in the morning, and when Esca woke he was wearing Marcus's sweater, and a still-sleeping Marcus was plastered to his side. They weren't together yet –hadn't even talked about it– but it felt so comfortable and right, and Esca watched Marcus sleep, and when they got up Marcus made him breakfast.

His mind skips to the first time they'd fucked around. Marcus had been so nervous, and Esca had been so turned on by it he'd come before they'd managed to get their clothes off. Marcus's trembling hand on his cock had been enough to set Esca off, and afterwards they'd laughed so hard over it. It got better after that, as Marcus became less nervous and Esca managed to calm his cock down enough to last.

Before he can stop himself he's remembering everything. The first few nights after Marcus moved in, when Esca would lie awake at night just to listen to him breathe, glad that Marcus was finally with him and not going anywhere. All the times he was sick, and Marcus would bring him tea and soup, and sleep on the couch so Esca could have the entire bed to himself. The nights Marcus woke up in pain, and Esca would lie awake with him for hours, rubbing Marcus's leg to help ease the ache.

Esca would've done it forever, he's sure of it, and he wasn't lying when he said it to Marcus. He'd never loved anyone the way he loved Marcus, and he knows no one has ever loved him the way Marcus loved him.

Or, at least, that's what he'd always thought.

Esca glances at the clock. It's been just over an hour since Marcus first knocked on his door, and as Esca gets out of bed and heads for the front hall he decides to stop fighting it. If his heart wants to hear Marcus's side of things, then he'll try to listen.

 

Marcus doesn't turn when he opens the door, likely afraid of what Esca might say, or figuring Esca might have found something else to toss at him. Esca steps bare foot across the front porch, and if it were another time, he would've nudged Marcus with his toes and plunked himself down. Instead, Esca remains standing, not quite sure what the next move will be.

“Hi.”

Marcus looks a bit fearful, but Esca knows him well enough to see the hope in Marcus's face as he glances up.

“Esca, I'm sorry.”

“I know, you've said that.”

“I called off the wedding.”

“Okay.”

“Can I explain?”

Esca shrugs, taking a seat at Marcus's side. “You can try.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Marcus's voice shakes as he begins speaking. “For my family, for my father and our family name, I thought it was something I had to do, and I never thought it would hurt you.”

“You should've told me.”

“I thought– ” Marcus pauses, tears welling in his eyes. He looks at Esca for a moment before confessing, “I thought if I told you, I'd never have a chance with you.”

“So you lied to me instead?”

“I wasn't thinking! I was trying to be a proper son, and do what I thought my father would want. If I could go back and change it all, I would, Esca. I'd do it all over, and I'd be better. I'd never hurt you.”

“Marcus, I loved you, and you just left. And yeah, people leave all the time, relationships end all the time. But you, Marcus? _Us_? I thought we were different. I thought that was it, and we were together, and you'd never leave me. But then you did.”

“I didn't want to.”

“But you did it anyway. When you left I thought you'd just pulled some notion out of thin air, falling out of love with me suddenly and deciding to move on, but now I know you'd always planned to leave. I gave you my heart, Marcus, and you broke it. I gave you everything.”

“I gave you everything too,” Marcus says, and Esca can see him breaking. “All I ever wanted was you, and I tried so hard to give you everything and be everything for you while we were together, so I could hold onto it and remember it.. after.”

“You could've told me,” and it's Esca's turn to break, “if I'd known I would've tried to remember it all too.”

“You would've wanted it? Even if– ?”

“Of course I would.” Esca wipes a tear from his face. “I loved you. Fuck, Marcus, I don't know what I did to make you doubt me.”

“I've never doubted you, I just, I never understood why you wanted me.”

Esca lets out a sob against his knees, a horrible mix of laughing and crying. “You were the best friend I ever had. You'd stand your ground and piss me off, then make me laugh, and you were always so fucking loyal, Marcus. And so fucking sweet. That was why I wanted you, all those reasons. That's why it killed me when you left. But if I'd known, if I knew from the beginning that it wasn't forever– ”

“Esca, I'm so sorry,” Marcus reaches for his hand, but stops himself as if he's afraid of Esca's reaction, “I can't even tell you how sorry I am.”

Esca keeps his hands around his knees, not opening himself to Marcus's touch. “So what now?”

Marcus shrugs, looking lost. “I don't know. I hadn't thought any further than seeing you.”

“Because I don't know if I can do it again.” Esca gestures between them. “This, I mean.”

“Okay,” Marcus nods, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Okay, I know.”

It kills Esca to say it, and it hurts even more to see Marcus's reaction. Esca's heart wants him to hug Marcus and bring him inside, but Esca's brain is screaming at him to protect his stupid reckless heart.

“Will you at least talk to me?” Marcus asks, his breath still shaky, “I don't think I could handle it if I could never talk to you again.”

“We're talking now, yeah?”

Marcus nods, smiling a little.

“So what made you change your mind?”

“I finally went and talked to my uncle. Asked him about my father, and told him why I was getting married. I thought he was going to hit me.”

Esca can't help the laugh the escapes him. “What'd he say?”

“He said our family name has a place in history, so it'll never be forgotten. And he'd never had his own children, but he would've been proud to call me his son. And if he were my father, he'd never want me to sacrifice my own happiness for someone else, especially not for him.”

Esca watches Marcus for a moment. “He's always seen you as a son, you know.”

“I know, I should have realized it before.” Marcus finally looks up at him. “There are a lot of things I didn't realize until now.”

“Does he know about us?”

“Yeah, and he wasn't surprised. He'd already figured us out, he just never knew why I didn't tell him.”

“What about Victoria?”

“She's angry, especially because I was the one who pushed for the wedding. And I told her about us, which didn't surprise her either. She said it was something about the look on my face every time I mentioned you.”

Esca cringes. “Suppose she hates that I showed up then, yeah?”

“No, she actually really likes you. It's me she's angry with.”

“So that's it then?”

Marcus nods, his fingers fiddling with the red blanket.

“Are you going back?”

“Just to get my stuff, but I don't have much there anyway.”

“And then?”

“I don't know.” Marcus stares down at his feet, tapping the broken supports where the step used to sit. “This finally broke off?”

“Sort of,” Esca admits, “I pulled it off after I got back from seeing you.”

Marcus gives him a look of surprise. “You did?”

Esca gestures behind himself to where the broken step still sits. “Tossed it up there and it's been there ever since.”

“Did you call the landlords?”

“Yeah, but you know them, useless arses.”

Marcus nods, smiling to himself. “They should've fixed it ages ago anyway.”

“That's what I keep telling them.”

Marcus stares down at the broken step, nudging the rotting wood with his toe. “I missed this place.”

It's an odd thing to say about such a rundown house, but Esca understands, because he'd probably miss the place too if he left. It was their home together, and there are a lot of memories inside, and if Esca's completely honest with himself, it's one of the main reasons he didn't move after Marcus left. He wasn't ready to let those memories go.

“I used to dream about it,” Marcus continues, interrupting Esca's thoughts. “I'd dream I was coming home from work, and I'd feel so happy because I knew you'd be inside waiting for me. But then I'd get to the door and someone else would be living here, and I'd wake up terrified because I didn't know where you were.”

“I was always here.”

“I know. Sometimes I'd call Cottia just to make sure you were okay.”

It surprises Esca to hear it. He always assumed Marcus left and never looked back.

“She never told me that.”

“I asked her not to.” Marcus still isn't looking at him, staring at his feet as he confesses his heart to Esca. “I was so lost. I thought I could do it. I thought I could move on and have a different life, but my heart was always here.”

“So why didn't you come back?”

“I was trying to make it work, and I figured you'd moved on anyway. But then when you showed up that day..”

“I couldn't move on,” Esca admits. “I kept trying, but I missed you so much, and then I heard about the wedding.”

Marcus just nods, and Esca nudges him with his elbow. 

“I heard from Placidus, you know.”

Marcus's head snaps up in horror. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, smug prick, seemed to want to rub it in.”

“God, Esca, I'm sorry,” Marcus says, and he falls quiet again, turning to looking at his hands. “I mean it, for everything. I'm so sorry.”

“I know.”

Marcus looks to him again, tears on his cheeks, and Esca recognizes the familiar pause, the breath before Marcus speaks. “Esca, can I come home?”

The words hit Esca harder than he expected, tears filling his eyes as he nods. He stands, reaching for Marcus's hand, and pulls Marcus up with him. “C'mon.”

Marcus follows him into the house, his hand gripping Esca's tightly as Esca leads him down the hall and into the bedroom. Marcus's breathing is ragged, as if he can't quite stop himself from crying.

Esca pulls him onto the bed, and they lie there, quiet, just needing to be close to each other.

He's missed the feel of Marcus, and as Esca pushes his face into Marcus's neck his heart aches at the familiar scent of him. Marcus, too, seems to be exploring, remembering, and he touches Esca's hair, twirling a stray piece of it in his fingers before his hand slides to Esca's back, smoothing soothing circles over it.

As they lie there together, Esca begins to realize the fifteen months apart don't matter, and the hurt seems to fade, because Marcus is there now and they're both where they should be. They'll figure out the rest.

They fall asleep in their clothes, the red blanket ending up tangled around their feet, and when they wake up Marcus is spooked for a minute, hugging Esca tight, as if he's afraid he'll disappear at any moment. “Am I really here?”

“Yeah,” Esca kisses him, “you're home.”


End file.
